


Keyhole

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Faked Slavery, M/M, MWPP Era, Marauders' Era, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1270858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sirius brings home a Mudblood "slave", Regulus suspects that something’s awry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keyhole

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My entry for February’s Daily Deviant.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.

Dinner is entirely uncomfortable, or at least, it is for Regulus. He’s used to keeping his tongue still at his parent’s brash, horrendous worldviews, though his brother never seems to believe him. Biting his tongue is how he’s survived all this time, how he’s become the favoured son and the sole heir to the Black fortune. Although, that might change, now that Sirius has miraculously fallen back into favour. 

Sirius, who never ceases to amaze his younger brother, came home after graduation with all new promises: Slytherin idealism down to the letter. Apparently being in Gryffindor so long has finally shown him the error of his ways, and he’s brought a true testament home with him. A Mudblood would normally never be let through the Black family’s doors, but... in the right circumstances, there’s always an exception. 

Apparently, Regulus’ parents find nothing odd about dragging a slave home, thoroughly bound and tied, assured that his filthy Muggle parents will never find out where he truly is. Kidnapping Muggles is easy, their father says. It’s good to show them who’s boss—proper training for the Dark Lord’s army, father says. Of course, it couldn’t have happened during school, but now that serious is free, they’re both quite impressed. 

So they converse across the giant dinner table, all business as usual, while Sirius occasionally holds down little bits of food for his slave to lick from his hand. 

It’s hard to watch. Or it is for Regulus, at least. As good as he is at playing the good little Death-Eater-in-training, he’s never had much of a stomach for overt cruelty. On top of it, Remus Lupin is the only one of Sirius’ little gang—including Sirius himself—who doesn’t actively pick on Regulus all year long. And somehow that’s gotten him bound and collared at the foot of Sirius’ chair. He never complains, has yet to fight or yell, simply opens his mouth when offered food and laps up the crumbs from Sirius’ palm like a dog. From where Regulus is seated, strategically more in view than his parents, Regulus has even seen Remus smile fondly up at Sirius once or twice. A compliance charm is the only explanation. Somehow, that makes it even worse. When Sirius tips a glass of water to Lupin’s lips, it’s the last straw. Regulus watches the way a few spare drops inevitably miss their target, spilling out around Lupin’s pink mouth and wandering down his neck to soak into the tattered, white collar of his shirt. Sirius reaches down to pet Lupin’s hair, absently stroking through the honey locks while he works through the remains of his dinner. Regulus thinks he might be sick. 

He pushes his plate back and announces, “I’m done. May I be excused?”

His mother gives him a curt nod, while his father, always fair-weather with attentions, gives him a disdainful sort of look. As though it’s a disappointment to the family that _he_ hasn’t brought home a drugged slave.

He pushes his chair back and heads out of the dining room, trying not to look back, but he still manages to hear Sirius say, “I’m done, too.” And he doesn’t ask to leave, never does. 

After him, Regulus hears his mother’s voice call, “Make sure you don’t get any dirty blood on the carpets, dear.” _Dear._ Sirius hasn’t been called that since he was eight. 

On a sudden whim, Regulus ducks around the corner of the next landing, hiding behind a heavy wardrobe. He couldn’t say why, but... something’s just not _right_ about this whole scenario. At the very least, Regulus feels like he should be doing _something_ to help Lupin, so long as he can find a way to do it undetected. 

A couple minutes later, Sirius rounds the corner, Lupin submissively following behind him, lead by a leash from his collar to Sirius’ hand. He doesn’t fight, doesn’t try to pull away, and when Sirius turns onto the stairs, he glances back with a wide smirk. From where Regulus is hiding, he can’t see Lupin’s face, but Lupin’s body doesn’t react. This isn’t how Regulus pictured Gryffindors in captivity. 

Regulus waits until they’ve rounded the stairs onto the second landing, and then he waits until their footsteps disappear down the hall. He only leaves his hiding place when he’s sure he won’t get caught. The best part of summer holidays is not having witnesses to Sirius’ relentless teasing, and he isn’t about to ruin that now. 

By the time he reaches the right floor, the hallway’s clear, but Regulus beelines for Sirius’ room—he knows Sirius hates every other part of the house. He expects to have to whip out his wand for an eavesdropping spell, but instead he finds his luck unusually good; Sirius’ door is cracked open; he’s so often _sloppy_ ; how did he catch Lupin? 

It’s just a little sliver, but it’s enough for Regulus to peer through, enough to get a good line of sight to the end of the bed. Sirius and Lupin are both standing perfectly within view, facing one another, close enough that Regulus has to fight the urge to jump in. Sirius could do some real damage to the poor Mudblood from there, and he knows as well as anyone how strong Sirius’ right hook is. But Sirius doesn’t seem to be close for that reason. Instead, his extended hand slides over Lupin’s face, palm open. His fingers curl in Lupin’s hair, and he drags Lupin forward. 

Regulus’ hand shoots over his mouth on instinct—it just barely manages to catch his shocked, strangled noise. Sirius’ mouth is open, head tilted, tongue out, and even more shocking, _Lupin’s is too._ Whatever spell he’s used is holding up well. But Lupin doesn’t look drugged anymore. His eyes slide shut right along with Sirius’, and he presses back into Sirius, arms lifting and hands reaching for Sirius’ waist, clinging to his belt and pulling him in. Sirius leans closer, tongue diving into Lupin’s mouth like it’s on a mission. When he pulls back, there’s a thin trail of saliva between them that Lupin licks away. 

“That was quite a performance,” Sirius half laughs, half purrs. His hands are running down Lupin’s body, wrinkling the simple white shirt and grabbing at his belt loops. Lupin lets himself be manhandled and hums prettily, clearly _enjoying_ the attention. “You know, I almost felt bad...” Sirius leans into Lupin’s ear, blocking the view of Lupin’s face to hiss, “...But then I remember what a dirty boy you are, and how much you _love_ being at my feet...”

Laughing somewhere near a giggle, Lupin wraps his arms around Sirius’ shoulders and presses a wide smile against Sirius’ lips. “What can I say? Some wolves like being tamed.” Sirius kisses him back, and in-between, Lupin manages, “It was a rather brilliant plan, even for you—finding a way to finally get me to your childhood bed before you move...”

Sirius pulls back to snort. “You know I wouldn’t bring you guys home for your own protection, right? Or did you not see the kind of psycho shit we’re dealing with here?”

“I know,” Lupin mumbles. It’s hard to tell from this distance, but Regulus can _hear_ the kindness in his voice, see bits of it in his face. The idea that he’d willingly submit to it because he’s... because he’s _dirty_ is blowing Regulus’ head. He knew Sirius was sneaky, but this...

“Well?” Sirius chuckles, stroking Lupin’s hips. A lewd glance up and down his trim figure, and Sirius growls, “Are you just going to kiss me all day like a schoolgirl, or are you going to reward me properly for my stroke of genius?”

“Aren’t you naughty.” Lupin grins, but the way he bites his lip portends of things that make Regulus blush just to think about. Or maybe he was already blushing; his face feels hot. He knows he should leave; everything’s fine, somehow, and it’s none of his business, but Lupin’s always been the _nice_ one, and he’s so _cute_ , and there he is getting touched and stroked by another Black, and then, suddenly, he’s sinking to his knees, slow and beautiful, pressing chaste kisses all over Sirius’ shirt as he descends. He reaches Sirius’ belt and hooks his fingers into it, purring as he glances up, full of mischief, “But then, if I didn’t go for the impish type, I’d really have to get a new set of friends.”

Sirius snorts again. “Don’t pretend you’re not a little devil yourself, Moony.” Lupin lifts an eyebrow, but he doesn’t comment. 

He’s busy unclasping Sirius’ belt, nuzzling into Sirius’ stomach while he does, Sirius’ fingers raking encouragingly through his hair. Regulus seriously needs to _leave_. He hasn’t seen Sirius’ dick since he was five, and he doesn’t want to change that. But with Lupin’s hot mouth wantonly open, pink lips moist while he licks them, Regulus finds it so _hard_ to move. Maybe he’ll just pretend it’s not Sirius. Maybe he’ll just pretend it’s _his_ cock Lupin’s drooling over like some depraved professional—everything Regulus’ mother’s ever said about his kind true. Regulus thought Lupin was different, he really did, Muggle-born or not. But Lupin’s mouthing at the imprint of Sirius’ cock through the fabric like he’s desperate for it, keening for more and pulling down Sirius’ fly...

Just before he can open Sirius’ trousers—Sirius fists Lupin’s hair and jerks him back, mumbling, “Wait a sec.”

Then, to Regulus’ utter horror, he glances at the doorway. 

A lazy, sheer evil grin on his face, Sirius drawls, “Do you want to come in and watch your big brother at work, Reg, or were you just gonna watch from the shadows’ like a creep the whole time?” Lupin’s eyes grow wide, and they dart for the door, while Regulus trembles. 

Regulus waits about half a second, then bolts down the hallway, ignoring his brother’s haunting laughter.


End file.
